


Thunder Storm

by RomaNatty



Series: The Adventures of Nataline "Nat" Hawke [6]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaNatty/pseuds/RomaNatty
Summary: Nat Hawke finds herself facing her old childhood insecurities when her recent talks with Fenris make her react in obvious ways.





	Thunder Storm

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to the events in Electric Love, kind of a look into Hawke’s own experience with her elemental outbursts as well as why the electrical pulses happen when they do. It’s also kinda a rewrite to Questioning Beliefs in act II? But a more fluffy version.
> 
> Events take place in act II, like right at the beginning

I walked out of the dark and seemingly desolate mansion and my heart felt like it wanted to make a break for it back inside, back to the dim lights of the candles and the wine and especially the drunken elf that I just had a long conversation with. I would have gladly done so if I wasn’t in a state of utter embarrassment.

After my meeting with the Viscount, I decided to catch up with my friends. Since I’ve moved into the mansion in Hightown, either I have been too busy to hang out or they have been. Half of them I have not even seen for ages, at least not since the move from Lowtown.

After a quick drink with Varric at the Hanged Man, I headed up to Hightown. It was sundown already and the crowds of people were thinning out. I wasn’t tired enough to go back home, so I made a turn to go up to the Chantry courtyard and up another set of steps to where my friend and neighbor still resided.

Fenris and I had entered a state of comfortable silence for a few months. Meaning, we didn’t visit each other or make attempts to catch up but we went on missions once in a while and the lack of contact didn’t bother me in the least. He didn’t seem bothered either, but I wasn’t too sure. He can be hard to read.

He had an open-door policy for me and a few of our friends. Because everyone assumes this house is abandoned, he isn’t worried about intruders. He is also very capable of defending himself. Once, a few Raiders tried to make it a base and received a very painful welcome. Some of the bodies are still laying on the ground. His main reason, according to him, is to ‘invite Denarius to his death with open and bloody arms.’

But I digress. I let myself in and made my way up to his room. When I got there, Isabela was there to talk to him. She was telling him about a tax collector or something before she left. He gave me a polite nod of hello when I came in before he offered me a drink, as usual. He began to talk about Denarius and the concept of rebuilding his life in Kirkwall. The idea of it excited me, until he frowned and said that he shouldn’t bother me with his problems.

To ease his worries, I replied with a bit of a flirty joke. 

“I could solve your problems, or give you a few more.” It came out more corny than I had imagined, but he still smiled.

“Only a few?” He joked back.

“It depends on how hard I really work at it.” I shrugged a shoulder. He chuckled behind a hand. He was the only one who genuinely laughed at my attempts at humor and it’s very nice. He then leaned forward with his chin in his hand.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Hawke. Is there no one else who has your attention?” I had this giddy feeling deep in my stomach that made me smile like an idiot, so I tried joking again.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that first bit.” I brushed my hair behind my ear as if to hear him better. He laughed again and I couldn’t help but laugh as well, my heart drumming gently against my ribcage from the happiness I felt. But my laughter was cut short when I felt something snap against my skin and saw a flash of light go down my arm.

I quickly shoved it under the table, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. He stood up and wondered if I was at all bothered by him, whether it be his history or the ‘borrowed’ mansion. We kept talking more about it and I started to relax.

“I’ll have to consider it.” He glanced away but I could see a slight blush. The implication he was making made my heart race a little. I felt another little brush against my skin, my head this time, and the lightning was noticeable and bright in the dimly lit room. 

To my dismay, he seemed to notice this one. His eyes caught the light as it disappeared and, in my nervous state, I jumped up and nearly knocked the chair over.

“Well! I suppose I should be heading back home now!” I shakily straightened the chair. He frowned at me, doing that little eyebrow crease he did whenever he got confused.

“You okay, Hawke? I didn’t upset you or anything, did I?” Oh Maker he’s so cute.

“No, never! I just… noticed how dark it was outside.” I gestured to the window behind him. It  _was_ dark, but he was still a little skeptical. “You know how overzealous those gangs in Hightown get when it’s so late out.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He offered gently. I almost said yes, but then another little tickle from the lightning reminded me why I couldn’t Thankfully, this time, it was on the back of my neck and my hair was thick enough to cover it.

“No, no. I’m okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, though? Stop by the Hanged Man and pick up Varric and Isabela for a mission?”

“I suppose…”

“Great! I’ll see you then!” I nearly flew out of that room and over the railing to get to the door, but I made myself keep calm. When I got to the front door, I looked back to see him looking after me. He waved a little, still looking confused. My mabari made the same face and it honestly did not help in my resolve. I waved back and left before any more lightning flickered.

I had a similar problem a few days later. Fenris invited me to his home for a celebration. It was apparently the anniversary of his escape. He offered to tell me the story. I said something like “If you’d like. I enjoy listening to you talk.” He grinned and I could tell he was already a little drunk.

“There’s no greater pleasure than speaking with a beautiful woman.” He retorted. I blushed a little and I felt a tingle brush up my back and arm. I ignored it at first because it was hidden by my hair, but as he spoke and I watched him recount the experience of being with the Fog Warriors, I felt it more and more on my legs and along my head. Thankfully, he was too drunk or too invested in the story to notice.

Then he became much more serious and brought up our conversation from earlier. I could not even concentrate, my heart was beating so fast and I was afraid I’d become living lightning if I kept this up. He gave a toast and began to get sleepy, so I urged him to bed and left the house. And so here I am, walking alone in the dark and utterly hating myself.

Another brush of electricity flew up my arm and I swatted at it, too drunk and upset to remember that swatting it won’t help. I took deep breaths and tried to think of other things in order to calm down. When I got home, to my surprise, Varric was there. He was playing cards with my dog. I did not want to know or ask; I just collapsed on the couch beside their game and watched.

Mother must’ve noticed my behavior. When Varric went home, she asked me what had happened. Like anyone else in my family, she smiled when I told her and cheerfully related her stories about how father would try and fail to teach me how to control my magic. I did not feel so cheerful.

I laid down in bed, deep in thought. My magic had always been a loose canon, not because of my father teaching or lack thereof, but because I could not get the hang of control. Force magic was more recent since I came to Kirkwall and so I knew how to use it in battle, but I was born with the talent of elemental magic. Anders once complimented it, saying he had never seen anything stronger.

The reason for that was probably because it was a magic that became ingrained into the very functions of my body, when my stomach twisted or my head hurt or my heart raced. I was the ‘open book’ in my family. My siblings would laugh when my hair suddenly caught fire, calling me a ‘hot head’. When I’d cry about it, my mother would comfort me and then proceed to give me a coat so I wouldn’t freeze myself to death. That was unfortunately my life.

It was worse when I was older. Anytime I happened to find someone in Lothering that I liked, my family would tease me because I made it so obvious. I could not even be out in public with them because, anytime they made me laugh or smile at all, I’d be a walking target for templars. I knew they meant well, but it was always an embarrassment to me. It was a constant reminder that I was happy and that this person made me so happy that sparks were flying. It was annoying, especially when it was so noticeable that the subject of my affection noticed and felt odd about it.

I was having a good streak in Kirkwall for a time. I easily masked my rage with fireballs, each battle letting me release any pent-up anger. I was usually never sad around my friends, at least not sad enough to freeze the place. Happiness was a totally different beast to tackle and it has gotten harder to do. I mean, all of my friends made me very happy. I loved to hang out with them and go out on all these adventures and missions. 

After the expedition and losing Carver to the Gray Wardens, it was hard to pick myself back up and be happy with everyone again. There were days when I just sat with mother and held her while she cried. They all came to visit us with gifts and idle conversation as well as condolences. I was not able to feel fully sad; I had to stay strong for my mom, after all. There was a point where I was able to let it all out and that weakened my control in more than one way.

I was alone in the house, sitting on Carver’s bunk and just feeling sad. The whole room was unnaturally cold because of me, but I didn’t bother with any blanket. Someone knocked on the door and I assumed it was mother coming back from the viscount. I straightened up and made a sound for her to come in.

But it was Fenris at the door instead, wanting to see if I was in the mood for a mission I guess. I never got to find out, because when the door opened, whatever he wanted to say didn’t come out. He saw me sitting on the bed, alone with my knees to my chest, and he did not say a word. Instead, he crossed the room to grab the blanket on my top bunk and then crawled onto the bed across from me and draped the blanket over my head and shoulders. After that, he just sat there across from me.

That absolutely wreaked my resolve around him, because I instantly felt comfortable around him. That was probably the moment I began really liking him, because he knew that talking and hugging and presents was not what I needed. The room became much less cold after he did that once I started feeling happier, but he didn’t seem to notice that. Fen sat there for a long time, just keeping me company while I warmed up and began to feel better.

That was months ago and we’ve had that long comfortable silence since then. The times I did see him, like when he helped us move into Hightown or when we took long walks with the others for missions, I’d be flickering in some way and it was like having a strand of hair constantly moving on my skin that I could not make go away. I’m also constantly worried that others would see it.

Now, he had most definitely seen by now and it was only a matter of time before he asked, or told me how weird it was and not want to see me anymore. Worst case scenario, of course. I sighed and stared at the canopy above my bed. I heard my dog pad over to the side of the bed and lay down with a huff. 

“What do you think, Lex? Should I be worried that Fen would reject me once he found out what was going on?” I asked offhandedly. She sneezed in response. “Thanks for your input.” 

Despite my worries, my thoughts kept flooding back to our talks. Laughing at my lame jokes; telling me his most personal experiences; saying I was beautiful. It made me smile and, out of curiosity, I dropped whatever restraint I had within me. Shadows danced from the bright flashes that crackled and snapped gently off of me. My heart thudded in time to the flashes and it sounded like a thunder storm in my ears. I had to laugh at myself– this one single man is causing a storm within me. It sounded like some bad romance even Varric couldn’t write. I just covered my face with my hands and laughed like the love-struck fool I really was.

Maybe he won’t bring it up. Maybe he will and he’ll like it. Perhaps he’ll want to stay away from this loose canon of a mage. Either way, at least I can enjoy this moment and all the ones we’ve had together while they last.


End file.
